True Blue By Fidelis

24 photos; 3:05 video

“MMMMPHHHH!”

Paul moaned as he regained consciousness. Damn, but he felt sick. Why was everything dark? Why was he in complete darkness? What was that horrible taste in his mouth, and why couldn’t he move his hands? So many questions to be answered.

Paul tried to remember what had happened. He had been on his regular beat, patrolling an area of what had once been filled with grand houses – an area that was slowly being gentrified. There was still a fair amount of crime, but the nature of the crime had changed. Instead of XXXX-dealing on the street corners, the biggest problem now was the theft of construction materials. Copper pipes were a particular favourite. A decision had come from headquarters that cops on foot would be a greater deterrent to this kind of crime than having cruisers on the street. Paul didn’t mind – he rather enjoyed patrolling the leafy streets, and some of the renovated houses looked great. It would be years before he could even think of buying a place in the neighbourhood, but in the meantime he could still dream about it. This evening had started out like any other, but now Paul was starting to remember what had happened to him .

It had started with Paul noticing a van outside one of the houses that Paul had watched being renovated. The work seemed to have been finished a couple of weeks ago – why was there van outside the house? Paul decided to investigate. He pulled out his flashlight and directed it towards the open door of the van. There was something bulky concealed beneath the tarps. This warranted closer inspection. He lifted the tarps to see what was under them. It was just as he expected – copper piping. Vandals must have broken into the house and ripped out the brand new pipes. Paul started as his movements caused some of the pipes to move, making a racket. He was so startled that he dropped his flashlight, which promptly rolled under the van.

“Shit” he muttered to himself. This wasn’t what he needed. He was going to call this in, but first he had to retrieve the damned flashlight. Paul got down on his knees, the clanging of the displaced pipes still ringing in his ears. He had just managed to grab the flashlight, and was about to rise to his knees, when something hard struck him in the back of head.

“GGGMMHEELLPPP!” Paul yelled into the gag which was filled his mouth. Something disgusting had been shoved into his mouth, and then taped in while he was XXXX. He was lucky that he hadn’t XXXXd to XXXX while he was out for the count. As his memory returned, he realized that the thief must have crept up behind him and whacked him on the head. He could feel cold metal biting into his wrists – his assailant must have used his own cuffs on him. Paul struggled in panic – he was claustrophobic and as it dawned on that he had been stuffed into a small and confined place his adrenaline surged. He pounded the opposite wall with his feet. Oh my God, this place was tiny. He couldn’t breathe. HE HAD TO GET OUT!

“MHHEEELPPGEEEMMMEOUTAMHERE!” Paul was on the verge of hysteria as he thrashed about in the stifling confines of his prison. He was on the point of passing out when the door opened and light flooded into what turned out to be a very small closet. Thank God, he was rescued.

“Keep it down, copper, or I’ll bash you on the head again. And it will be harder this time.”

Paul gulped. Hmmm, he could breathe now, but he didn’t like the look of the hulking figure that loomed over him. This wasn’t quite his idea of a rescue.

“Let’s get you out of that closet and take a better look at you pipsqueak. Up you go.”

Massive hands the size of hams grabbed Paul, pulling him to his feet and out of the closet. This guy was HUGE, and built like a brick shithouse. Still, the pipsqueak remark rankled. Now that he was out of that tiny closet, Paul was feeling a lot feistier – feistier and not as he careful as he should have been.

“GGMGETMURHANDSOFFMMEEECREEP! GIMOFFICEROFTHELAW!”

Paul lashed out at his captor as he yelled into his gag. The huge oaf just laughed as he moved out of the way.

“Those are big words for a little rookie cop all cuffed up and gagged. I KNOW that you’re an officer of the law, dimwit. The uniform kinda gave that fact away. You’re not a very smart officer of the law, are you? Making all of that noise and then dropping your flashlight like that. You were just asking for me to hit you over the head and tie you up.

Paul fumed, and then XXXXd as the well-built felon grabbed his tie and started to XXXX him.

“That’s a nice shiny badge you have there, rookie. That might come in handy one of these days. Why don’t I relieve you of it? “

“MMNNNOOTTTMYMMBADGGGEEE!”

Paul was incensed. How dare this criminal touch HIS gear? It was bound enough that his own cuffs had been used to shackle, but his badge? That was going to far.

“MMMPHHHHH!”

I’m getting just a bit tired of you antics, rookie. Now, you stay there on your knees like a good little pipsqueak cop, while I fetch something to make sure that you don’t misbehave anymore.”

Paul, after having his own XXXX shoved into his face, thought it might be a good idea to do as the leviathan said. He would think of a way out of this sticky situation, once he had had a moment to gather his thoughts. He was still a bit woozy from the blow to the head.

“MMMWHATMMUMDOING?”

“Gee, I would have thought that it would be quite obvious what I am doing, cop. I’m tying you up! There, that looks much better. Cops look good with rope and cuff and tape. “

“GGGIMGOINGTOMMMBEATURMASS – MGGGAHHHH! MOUUCCCHH!”

Paul’s gagged tirade was cut short as the brute grabbed him by the throat and then threw him down on the ceramic-tiled floor. Damn, but that hurt. Paul moaned as he lay on the hard, unyielding tiles. Oh, but his noggin had taken another whack as he fell, and this time the blow hadn’t been cushioned by his uniform hat, which had tumbled from his head as he fell. He shook his head as his captor loomed over him, giving him an ungentle nudge in the ribs with his booted foot.

“You know, pipsqueak, you look kind of cute, lying there, all tied up like that. You’re starting to give me some ideas. I’m going to make you a little more comfortable, and then I’m going out to the van to get some beer. I think it’s just about time for a party time.”

“GGGMMMOOOOF. MMMOUCHHH!”

Paul grunted in pain as his muscular captor straddled him, wrapping more rope about his wrists and ankles, putting him into an uncomfortable hogtie. This talk about him being cute, and having a party, filled him with trepidation. What could this brute have in mind for him? As the front door slammed behind the criminal lout, Paul struggled frantically to free himself. If only he could get free of the ropes, he could make a run for out, preferably in the opposite direction from that the felon had taken. But his time was limited. Before he had time to work up a good sweat, the door swung open.

“Mmmm, you are a sight for sore eyes, rookie. It is definitely time to party. Let me get rid of some of that rope and put you over here. Oh yeah, you look good enough to eat.”

Paul could only shake his head in XXXX and watch as the muscled hunk moved towards him.  Things were not looking good for him.

TO BE CONTINUED

 

The Rookie played by Niel

Photography by Caitiff

 

Date of Production: 02/21/2007

 

tags: police, tape gag, hog tie, story

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